Chalk From the Moon: Book 7 Trials
by WrittenAvarice
Summary: Split between their rage filled obsessions for revenge, Alan and Michael must face their fears about themselves and find what it truly means to protect. But will it ever be enough... Final installment... Please, Read and Review!
1. Entertain and Deceive

"So Michael tells me you have a gift." She said in her lovely voice. My brother said she was like a mother, and in her eyes was a caring curiosity that told me the same.

"Yeah." I replied, my gaze turned down and away from hers. She laughed at my blushing cheeks and timid expression. The warmth of the blood in my cheeks was swelling around and it made me all the more self-conscious of my shy exterior. "I can alter plants." I said looking back up to her.

"Can you show me?" She asked, that same voice held a little more curiosity than was once there. She adored me, I could feel it as we sat alone on the porch.

I nodded, grabbing the wicker armrests to stand. _Do I really want to expose myself?_

The thought had hindered me slightly, but when she reassured me that it was alright, I decided it wasn't going to hurt.

As I walked down the stairs, I could feel the invisible liquid strands of life that beckoned me in the yard beyond the wooden stairs. Every step I could feel them drawing me nearer and nearer. Their calls were the songs of a million sirens, and once my feet touched the cool grass, I could finally breathe.

Under my feet I could feel their discomfort, but I could feel the premature seeds of grass that had yet to sprout even more so. The dead seeds could also be felt. I couldn't really call them dead though; just… unconscious.

_Breath._ I heard them say. And as I did, I could feel the strands enter into my feet. To some this image would probably be of stepping on a tack, but to me, it was like stepping into a cool pond. The sloshing water seeped into the rough pores that lined the bottom of my feet, and their lucid embraces were complete.

I took in a deep breath, asking myself if I wanted to go through with this in the presence of my audience, and exhaled.

Around me, the grass grew long and tall. Weeds sprouted around my feet and I could feel their wanting grasps, but I wouldn't let them cling to me just yet.

"That's amazing!" She said, clapping her hands together. Her perfect white teeth shone brilliantly on her round face. That light red hair of hers glinted back into the porch light, magnifying her radiance.

"That's nothing." I said. "Just give me a second."

I took a few steps, circling around my new patch of life. And once I'd rounded back to my previous point, I bent my knees and rolled in it. The weeds grabbed at my skin and held onto me like a child would his parent. And when I came up, I was completely covered, protected from the outside world by my new friends.

Claire giggled in her chair, still high on her excitement, as I looked beyond my green exterior with a goofy grin made by the intertwining weeds. She laughed harder and harder.

"Where'd you learn that?" She said, catching her breath.

"I can hear the grass." I said, shaking them gently back into the dirt. "They're just as alive as you and I."

She was silent as she watched me, still smiling, still loving. She watched as I shook the weeds off and then giggled slightly as they inched back into the dirt to take their places amongst the grass.

"So do they hurt when people mow the lawn?" She asked. It was a completely innocent question. One that I remember my mom asking when I'd first told her I was talking to the lawn.

"No. What is mulch but food for future generations of plants?" I said. "They see things very simplistic." I added, noting that I was sounding more and more crazy as the conversation grew.

But she didn't seem to mind. She was too caught up by my little stunt.

"Can you make a tree?" She asked. Her questioning was something that made me feel as if I mattered. It was a weird feeling, but back at the mansion, I'd never really had anyone interested in me. I was just another child waiting to serve the great Marcus.

"I tried once." I stated simply. "But in order to grow anything, I have to be standing over the seed that can grow it. Which after everything was said and done, I was lifted forty feet into the air. My mom was furious." I said smiling.

She laughed. And she meant it. There was nothing fake about her. Her intentions were always worn on her shoulders from as far as I can tell. She spoke her mind, and she wasn't afraid of people knowing it. I liked this woman.

"Now who's in my room!?" Came a voice from inside. I could only guess by the easily angered tone in his voice, that it was Derrick. He was much like Diego, Marcus's right hand man, or wolf… however that works. There was a strict level of patience for him and if I had to measure it in yards, it would have to end two feet behind him.

I looked to Claire for some sort of reassurance that he wasn't going to yell at me. And suddenly, I remembered what my older brother had told me when he'd moved me into that room.

"_You can stay in my old room. It used to belong to a man named Derrick. He was quite the prick when he wanted to be, but I'm sure he won't be coming around any time soon._"

Yeah, right. That held up in theory, just not in practice.

"That's Alan's room, now!" Claire yelled, turning into the open doorway.

"Dammit!"

We both laughed.

There's lonely, and then there's alone. Lonely, is a feeling. A small word that meant you felt like no one was around. That there was no one to turn to. That's all it was.

Alone is a truth. When you're alone, there _is_ no one around. There's no one there to tell you everything will be okay. There's no one there too hold you until you were asleep. And there was no one there to tell me that I'd be fine.

I did a good job at hiding myself behind timid smiles, and innocent antics with the other people in the house, but it always felt, at the end of the day, like I'd lost somehow. As if everything I'd ever done was for nothing. No matter how much beauty I brought to the world around me, nothing would end the pain. Nothing would bring my mom back.

I found myself crying in my new bed. My new sheets, with my new beige blanket. And with all of these new possessions, I still cried the same old tears. _I miss her so much…_

Coiled with my knees pulled close, I tried to shut out the memories of her. They weren't going to bring her back, and they weren't going to make me forget. They weren't going to help me through my anguish, nor my rage.

As the wind howled against the thin glass windows near my bed, I could hear the sounds of pack members hunting. I remembered the howls, the barking, and the growling. I remember my mother, holding me until I fell asleep, telling me I'd never be like them. Ants fighting blindly for their leader…

_I won't mom. I promise._


	2. Abomination

I awoke to the smell of burnt bacon and scrambled eggs. It wafted through the cracks around my bedroom door and seeped in like a ghost. Disoriented slightly by my soft awakening, I couldn't really grip the reality of my existence. Split in half by the dream of my mother singing to me, and the burning breakfast that had awoken me, I could only think one thing. _It's definitely not my brother cooking._

I got dressed quickly to shake myself away from my dream and my exhaustion. As I mentally prepared myself for the day, I made sure my zipper was up on my new cargo shorts, and that my shirt wasn't on backwards. Two things that had once gotten me laughed at. I didn't want a repeat of that at all.

The journey into the kitchen wasn't as good as it was when my brother was manning the stove. He was a much better cook than whoever was in there now.

And as luck would have it, my previous thoughts were instantly making me feel like a jerk for even having them. Because in the kitchen, waving a rag over a skillet full of crackling, popping bacon, was Claire.

She noticed me instantly.

"Alan! Can you open a window or something?" She said. The smoke from the bacon was much thicker than I'd ever seen.

As I ran to all the living room windows, I couldn't help but wonder if it was possible to accidentally cause that much smoke cooking bacon. _How is that possible?_

Luckily, we got the smoke out of the house before the other two came downstairs. Claire was especially grateful, because from what I'd heard of the other two; they liked to pick on people. It was all fun and games, my brother assured me, but no one likes being picked on.

"What smells like death?" Derrick asked, rubbing the crust from his eyes. He was in a pair of dark blue pajamas, and nothing else. I was a little taken back by how thin he was. He had muscle, and was very cut, but every other full-grown wolf I'd known, besides my brother, was thick and almost burly. Well, the women were an exception as well. Their bodies curved, making them look like living fantasies. At times, I really loved the world I was being ushered into.

"Bacon." Claire said angrily. She scraped the black chunks of meat into the garbage disposal and tossed the skillet into the sink, defeated. "Why are you up so early?" She asked, changing the subject.

"I'm going hunt. It's been ages since I last hunted here, and I'm not going to miss my chance when it presents itself." He answered, as if she had a problem with how he operated.

From the looks they gave each other, it didn't take me long to figure out that they either didn't like each other, or were living together before they came here. And by seeing how they treated each other the previous night at the dinner table, I'd have to guess the later. Their jokes and laughter made it an easy question to answer.

"Well don't stay gone too long, because I'm sure Wilson's going to want to do the same." She said, waving him off as he headed out the door.

If there was one thing that I didn't look forward too, it was having to be naked to change. I knew that if you changed while clothed you could get stuck mid-change, or worse, you could suffocate. Either way, the thought of being outside and naked didn't sit well with me. Not at all.

As Derrick opened the door, a hurricane of noise flooded my ears. It was something I recognized instantly as danger. And without thought, I rushed to the door, grabbed Derrick by the back of his pajamas, and yanked him back inside.

Mid fall, the sound of gunfire rang outside heavily. The explosive repetition from what I could only guess to be from pistols, were accompanied by the intrusion of metal bullets bombarding the half-opened doorway. The front door was torn apart piece by splintery piece. The top hinge was shot off completely; the door knob was blown inward and ricochet right past my face. And as suddenly as the gunfire started, it stopped.

Breathing heavily, I looked over too Claire, who was on the ground gasping and trying her best to recuperate. _At least she wasn't shot. _I thought.

Derrick was trembling under my arm, and as I checked over him, he started too kick away. "I've never been shot at." He said quickly. He was starting in on shock, and I also was starting to feel its cold embrace.

"I don't want to be shot!" He screamed. He was definitely justified. I felt the exact same way as I slowly stood to pull him away from the massacred doorway.

As I did so, a thick voice came from outside. I knew it instantly to be Diego's.

"Is Alan in there?" He yelled.

Fear engulfed me. _They killed my mom, and now they're after me… _

My thoughts were a rush of horrified excitement, and my body was starting to shake. Sweat covered my forehead almost instantly. But still, I found myself answering.

"I'm here!" I yelled. "Just don't shoot!" I didn't want the other's getting hurt because of me. They didn't deserve it.

"We've got orders to make sure you are brought back unharmed!" He said, his voice was wrought with uncaring for other people who might've been in the house. He didn't know whether I was alone or not, and still he just fired in on us!?

"What about the others?" I asked, keeping low, but staying near the doorway.

"Alan!" Claire whispered angrily. "Shut up! _We're_ here to protect _you!"_

I looked over to Derrick, and I could have laughed. There was nothing anyone could do when their attackers had guns and they were unarmed. I'd been told by Marcus himself that it all lies in the ammunition. Of course at the time he was talking about his oddly sized pack.

"I know what I'm doing Claire." I lied, standing up to meet my attackers outside.

I had no idea what I was doing. At least, not at first.

Their guns were down when I finally peaked around the corner. Both men, Diego and Azura were both on Marcus's favorite list. Azura came in second to Diego though. Something the two fought about constantly when they were together. And I almost thought it funny that the only thing keeping them from bickering was violence.

"Oh. There you are." Diego said. His auburn hair was cut almost to the skin, making him look more sadistic than the last time I'd seen him. His partner Azura was just the opposite. His Japanese features were slender and cut around his face. Well, what I could see of it behind that shroud of black hair that hung to his chest.

Azura holstered his gun as I came walking out onto the porch with my hands up.

I could hear the grass asking me questions, but my fear pushed them out. Words like "Protect" and "Trust" were all I caught as I met the edge. I stopped.

"What's going to happen to them?" I asked.

Azura scoffed and got back in the car. "What a waste of a trip!" He complained.

"Nothing. My orders were to come and get you." He said, smiling at his accomplishment. But still, he held the gun tightly in his hand. He knew that the others were wolves, and he wasn't about to let my surrender get his guard down.

I took a few steps down the stairs and then I heard what the grass was telling me. _We will protect you, trust us…_

"Stop dilly dallying and get on with it, I haven't even eaten yet." He complained.

"Who killed my mom?" I asked. My sweat was gone now. All that was left was rage, and there was so much of it. This was my chance to know. This was my chance for reconciliation.

Diego smirked. I knew that Marcus wouldn't have killed her himself. He wasn't one to go into battle and fight. He was a coward, and that's why I hated him. Even before my mother's death, he was always quick to rush into conflict with the other packs. And when news spread of his resolutions, it was inevitable for them to reach my mother's ears.

"I did." The look of satisfaction made my blood boil. My senses were on fire from the sulfur building in my chest. Thoughts of violence were quickly being pushed into my head, and before I knew it, they engulfed me. And yet… I smiled.

The wind picked up between the car and the porch, its gentle push flew in between the overgrown patch of grass that I'd created, and its weeds were dancing. I knew what had to be done, and with that, I spoke.

"Good."

As if pulled in by nature itself, I rolled into my sanctuary. And then, I became perfect.

The roots from the weeds clung angrily against my skin and burrowed into me, but the pain was non-existent. My hate was their hate. Their leaves clung to my skin harshly, like armor, and began to thicken. Thousands of blades of grass clung to my forearms and before I could finish the transition, I was up.

I slung my arms out, and watched as hundreds of tiny green daggers scattered forward. Their trajectory was like a slew of darts, and they littered Diego's confused face. Blood spattered from the entrance wounds and squirted over the black Dodge they'd come in.

Azura fought unsuccessfully to upholster his gun in the car. And as he struggled and squirmed, I laughed. The power was immense, and it was starting to take over. I couldn't stop my actions, they weren't mine anymore.

I pressed my head up against the cool glass and I watched him freeze.

_Impale._

I felt the lawn under the car sharpen and straighten, and then without warning, they shot through the undercarriage. I could only catch a glimpse of the green lances pierce him. Their staggering numbers made it hard to watch his face turn from fear to pain, but at least I got to see the horrible grimace on his face as the grass pushed through the bottom of his jaw and burst from his eye sockets. It was beautiful.

Blood erupted from every angle of his body and within a fraction of a second I couldn't even see into the car.

"Too bad." I said sadly. "What a waste of a trip."

A soft gasp had broken my cynical concentration. Diego was still alive. _How pleasant._

I strolled around the vehicle, my eyes followed the blood. "Diego? Where are you my friend?" I asked politely. The feeling of invincibility was coursing through my veins like a drug, and every part of me was addicted. The pain I'd felt the night before was instantly forgotten. All that I knew now, was the feeling that I'd finally gotten my revenge.

But as I turned the corner, Diego fired his gun.

I flinched. I felt the pressure on my chest, a hit that would have instantly torn through my heart… but no such thing occurred. Instead, I looked down at the flattened grey bullet as it smoked, burning against my green exoskeleton. "That's new." I said wondrously.

Again and again he fired, all the way until he was out of bullets.

"Did you enjoy killing my mom?" I asked through my contradicting smile. He knew I was enraged; I just wanted him to fear me as much as she did him.

He couldn't form a single word. All that came out were half-spoken pleas for his life to be spared, and there was nothing on earth that was going to stop me from denying him the rest of his life. The malice that came from my thoughts was starting to take a toll on me.

And as I debated on the best way to kill him, I had a thought.

_Can you make him experience pain?_ I asked.

The sight of him would have been enough for me without this form. His face was pierced by the green knives that I'd thrown at him. One went through his left eye and stuck through the bone, shooting out of his skull without fatal damage. I could see many holes in his cheeks and he was missing teeth. One of the more excruciating was one that was still stuck right in the center of his chin, splitting the skin and the bone apart. He was in unimaginable pain as it was… but I wanted more.

_We can._

_Then do it._

The grass he lay shaking on started to tremble. And like worms, they dug themselves out of the ground and crawled on him. I watched in great satisfaction as they burrowed deep under his skin. Screams exploded from his throat. They made me smile. I felt like a five year old opening presents as they made their way under the meat, shearing it from the bone. I watched as the tendons that held his arms in place suddenly shifted, there was so much screaming, and so much blood.

Fingers began to pop out of place; nails were popped off by twisting blades of grass as they chewed through the meat. Every knuckle was being cleaved of its meat and every time they were done, that piece fell off.

But the best was when they reached his face. The single blade that had once been like a still blade in his chin, twisted quite suddenly, shearing his bottom jaw in two. I was pleased.


	3. Comfort and Forgiveness

The warm air washed around me as soon as his final breath escaped his cold lips. His body was a massacre of human flesh. Ripped, torn, raped, and decimated. These were the only words that I could use to describe the bloodied corpse that lay at my feet.

As the soft foliage that covered me began its descent back down into its home, the realization of what I'd just done began to take hold of me. _They're dead…_

My knees shook as I struggled to hold myself up. My body felt broken and tired, but my mind, was a frenzy of attacking thoughts. _They're dead, and I killed them…_

I fell to the ground. The smell of blood and exposed intestines filled my nose, and I could barely breathe. The corpse was now right under my nose, and what I'd done, was now being pushed into my face. This was my mess. This was my punishment. I screamed.

Everything that once held me together was gone. My mother was a memory I couldn't even conjure. Her words were silent. I couldn't even remember her voice. _Was she even real?_ I asked myself.

As I took in another breath, I screamed. Again and again, I screamed and screamed. There was nothing more horrible than this. This death I'd brought to the world was entirely my fault. And there was no one around to tell me everything would be alright.

The shredded garbs that barely clothed him were being blown away by the gentle wind. _I am a monster. I'm a monster. I'm a monster. I'm a monster. _The thought grew louder and louder until it was screaming in my ears. And between the shrieking thoughts and my screaming voice, I prayed I'd become deaf.

My arms shook as I pushed away from the body. "I'm a monster." I whispered, followed by another shrill scream. _This isn't real. This isn't real!_

My legs kicked furiously at the slick ground to get me far away, but it wasn't fast enough. Fearful thoughts of the corpse coming back to life to kill me flooded my mind, along with my shrieking mantra. _I'M A MONSTER! I'M A MONSTER! I'M A MONSTER!!!_

_This isn't real!_

_I'M A MONSTER!!!_

_THIS ISN'T REAL!!!_

Furiously I argued with myself. The tones of the two voices became one and soon there was too much noise for me to focus. A cold grip held in my throat, and I couldn't breathe. My heart felt like it was about to stop, yet my veins pumped blood painfully through my body. Every single part of me was screaming and thrashing to put more distance between me and my victim, and before I could go any further, a silent black covered me. I prayed for death.

Shivering from the cold realization of what I'd done, I cried. My shoulders shook as I wrapped my arms around my legs. The warm comfort of my new bedroom wasn't helping at all. But there was one thing that was.

Claire held me close to her as I shook and cried. "It's going to be alright." She whispered, stroking her fingers through my hair. "Everything's going to be fine."

Her words were calming, but the fact remained the same. I'd taken two lives in malice. I wasn't hunting for food, or protecting a loved one, I was murdering for revenge. I didn't deserve the comfort that she was giving me.

"But I killed them." I said between sobs.

Her right arm gripped mine tightly as she pulled me closer to her. I was completely broken. But having her there to pick up the pieces was a blessing.

"They were evil men." She said, her voice was a drizzling blanket of forgiveness. "And they weren't going to change."

She ran her fingers through my hair again, making my tension lessen. Her every touch was that of a mother's, and her every word was all but dismissed. As she kissed the top of my head, I felt that I had no choice but to believe her.

"Everything is going to be alright, Alan."

I didn't go outside for the rest of the day. To me, the bodies were still out there, waiting for me to come outside so they could haunt me. To me, I was marked. I was marked for a horrible future.

In reality though, I knew the bodies were being taken care of. At least that's how Wilson said it. He was so careful about how he talked around me after my breakdown. He used words like body instead of corpse; disposed of, instead of murdered; and mess, instead of massacre. He was a kind man, he just really needed a little training with kids.

But the topper of my day, was when I finally noticed the voices of the foliage outside. Their calls, their happy tones… I had to shut them out. They asked me to come outside. Told me to help them grow. It was driving me even more insane than I already was!

Ignoring the wistful calls of nature, I barricaded myself in every room that I entered. I made sure all the windows were closed and locked. I'd even stuffed a clean towel under the front door, even though there was no crack for the voices to get in. Paranoia was nipping at my heels and I feared it would soon eat me alive.

"Alan?" Claire asked.

I'd been chewing my fingernails down until they hurt.

"It's going to be alright." She said reassuringly. "You trust me right?"

I pulled my bleeding index finger from my clenched teeth. The salty taste of blood had always been taboo for me. It was something I thought was beautiful, and I didn't mind its strange taste, but I was always brought down by the fact that there would never be enough for me to get sick of. If that makes any sense at all.

Guilt made me say yes. But I wasn't a hundred percent sure.

"When the boys get back, we'll call Michael and tell him what happened."

"No!" I protested. "Michael will hate me if he finds out!" I don't know why I thought that way, but I did. I figured that if he heard of what I did, he'd be the first to run me off, or worse. He was all I had in this world. And with that, I found myself crying again.

"He's all I have…"

"He's not going to hate you. If anything he'll sympathize with you. Alan, you two are the exact same." She said, walking over too me from the recliner.

She joined me on the couch and wrapped her arms around me.

"I don't want him to know." I cried softly into her shoulder.

"Alan, he's your brother." She said softly in my ear. "And he's going to love you no matter what."

I looked up at her. Those golden eyes were full of hope, and love. Her faith in my brother was unfaltering as she gleamed back into my eyes. She was a good person. And why she was so hell bent on trying to convince me that I was the same, I'll never know. But she was sure, and she was unwavering on the subject.

"Do you promise?" I asked, wiping the wet tears from around my eyes and cheeks.

"I promise. He will love you unconditionally."

"Thanks, Claire." I said, giving her a smile.

She smiled back and hugged me. Her warmth was inexhaustible. Her love was unbreakable. She was my everything in that moment. She was a mother. It was something I could only feel for her. She loved me. And I loved her back.


	4. Safe and Sound

"You can do this, Alan." She reassured me. Her hope was starting to bug me. It had been only two days since I'd killed those two men.

"Are you sure about this?" I asked. I wasn't sure what was going to happen.

"Positive."

I stood on the threshold of the doorway, well, what was left of it. The door still hung in place thanks too Derrick's quick repair skills and it _did_ act like a door. It was just riddled with holes.

Beyond distinct line between inside and out, were the voices. I feared their excited callings.

"You don't have to fear them. They only wanted to make you happy." She said. I almost wished I hadn't told her about the things they said to me. Because every time she mentioned them, I felt like I was being coaxed with a condescending lie. Even though I knew better.

"I know. I know." I said, forcing my first foot outside.

_He's coming._ They squealed with glee. Their voices were like that of a toddlers TV show. Unquestionably kind, and almost unnaturally happy. To them, nothing bad had, or ever would happen. They were deluded in their own simplistic nature. Grow, die, grow.

I felt the cold wooden porch bear the weight of my foot. The weight of my sins. And that same feeling came again with my other.

"Good." Claire said, coaxing me. She was already down the stairs in the patch of grass I'd made two nights before, right after Michael and them left. Her arms were out and waving me forward. "Stop day dreaming and come on outside. The wind is nice and cool." She promised.

I took a few more steps, and rested my hands on both rails to the stairs. _Please help us grow._ They called again. The child-like, high voices were tantalizing, but I knew all too well what they were capable of.

But instead of turning back to hide in the house, I remembered the promise I made Claire that morning. _If you help me, I'll try my best._

One foot in front of the other, I counted the four steps until I reached the bottom. At first I thought I'd never be able to make that final step. To me, it seemed like an impossible mission. And yet, without though, I pushed myself forward. Both of my feet hit the ground at nearly the same time.

Instantly the tall grass grew a bright green and spread out around the steps.

_I'd forgotten how forgiving they are._ I thought. It was the truth. I also forgot their kind "thank yous" when I helped them grow and flourish. I forgot the loving way they called me father, and even the warmth that seemed to invade my heart as I listened to them. They were always great company. And when Claire saw me smiling, she laughed.

"That's much better, isn't it?" She asked.

"Yeah." I replied. "Watch this." I said, making my way through the grass.

_I need something blue._

The grass around me started to quiver as I moved along their many bodies. With every step forward they grew more and more restless. And by the time I made it to the forests edge, the ground was shaking.

_Thank you._

_You're welcome father._

There were several dead vines on the tree they'd brought me too, and I took my time choosing just the right one. And once I'd found it, I grazed my hand against its dead exterior. Instantly the brown vine became lighter in color, almost shining in its new life, and from the small pores that rode along it, came dozens of brilliant blue flowers.

They were the exact same flowers I'd shown Michael when I'd first been found out.

I plucked one off the vine and allowed it to grow its roots into my fingers for penance. It hurt a little more than it had when I had adrenaline and rage burning in me, but it'd keep it alive until I was done with it.

Handing the flower to Claire, I smiled. "Thanks for everything, Claire.

She beamed happiness and was in awe of the beautiful flower. Even with all of the misery I'd been showering her with, she never gave up on me. She never left me alone, flustered by my hopelessness. She deserved as much happiness as life could give her.

Claire had announced that Michael and the others would be arriving in less than ten minutes. She'd also said not to be worried if Emily looked a little different. I had no idea what that meant, nor why it took any precedence. But then again, I hoped she was alright. I don't think Michael would ever live it down if one of them got hurt.

Claire kept reassuring me that everything would be fine, but I was skeptical. I felt like a dog that'd just pissed on the rug, and was waiting for his master to find it. It wasn't a pleasant feeling, I'll tell you that much.

Derrick and Wilson had already taken a cab back to North Dakota. I didn't blame them. When werewolves came back from fighting, they were always pissed off and violent. I prayed the such was different for my new family.

The sound of Claire's Nissan was all too clear approaching Michael's usual parking spot, and as I prayed for more time, I heard the doors open and close. There was some bickering coming from outside and I Emily's voice was yelling something, and before I could realize what it was, the front door swung open.

The being that walked through the battered doorway wasn't Emily. She had her face, but her wild hair was a bright, glowing red. Her eyes matched them perfectly. Like glowing stoplights, they shown brilliantly in the dimly lit living room. I held my breath as she stopped to look at me.

"Oh, sorry darling." She said. Her accent was strange, but as she pulled her hair back with her hands, the dark red became bright blond once again. She closed her eyes and then… she was Emily once again.

"Sorry for scaring you, but they wanted me to stay changed for the trip home." She apologized. Then quite suddenly, she turned around on Nick who was waiting for her to move out of the way. "And as for you! I don't care about waiting till we're married anymore! You better be in the bedroom in two minutes, or I'll kill you!" She yelled. Her face was fury red, and without another word she stomped up the stairs and I could hear the sounds of the door too their shared room slam shut.

Nick was all smiles as he came through the door. And in his hand was a rather large bag of Burger King that he handed off to Angela. He stopped by Claire, gave her a hug and thanked her for watching the house, and he then disappeared beyond the stairs. I didn't really need that much imagination to tell me what was about to happen. So instead I smiled.

Angela was smiling as she came in as well. Her black hair was frizzed up and her clothes were dirty as rags, but she was smiling. I had no idea of what had happened, but I was glad to see everyone smiling, with the exception of Emily.

"How was your trip back?" Claire asked her, smiling as well. I was definitely missing something.

"I'll tell you later, when everyone's gone to sleep."

The girls instantly paired off and went into the kitchen where Claire began riffling through the brown bag full of food. Her eyes widening by the many choices that perplexed her decision making.

And last but not least, was my brother. He looked just as ragged as Angela. Brown dirt covered his white shirt and blue jean pants. But he wore it proudly. I could see it in his eyes. And upon meeting me in the doorway he stopped.

I could feel the two girls' glancing towards us.

I wanted to apologize to him for bringing something so unforgiving onto his land. I wanted to drop to my knees and ask him for forgiveness. I wanted to beg for my right to stay here…

And as I opened my mouth to speak, he dropped his bags and ran right up to me. His tight, strong arms almost knocked the breath out of me.

"I'm so proud of you." He whispered, "And I'm glad you're safe."

His words made me want to hug him back, but my arms were locked in place. "You're going to break me in half." I protested.

He laughed as released me. "I'm just so happy to see you safe."


	5. Calming the Grounds

"They're not right." I complained. The racket between Emily and Nick was hard to block out. Kind of like an argument between mommy and daddy, except it was a little more awkward than a fight. So awkward, in fact, that everyone decided it best to vacate the house entirely.

Angela and Claire were sitting on the porch, sifting through what was left of the Burger King that they'd brought home earlier. They laughed every time the disturbance upstairs grew, and it was hard for me not to join them.

My big brother and I were strolling around the yard though. I couldn't really hear what they were talking about, but it made them laugh. Every now and again, Angela would point towards Michael, but I only caught it once or twice.

"If you think so. I'm just glad they're not torturing each other." He said in relief. I hadn't been around long enough to know it at the time, but between Emily's gluttonous eating, and Nick's seemingly one-track mind, I could definitely tell something was up.

"Yeah? Well, you're not rooming right next to them." I said, pushing his shoulder playfully. He didn't budge. He was still so tense from whatever happened back in Canada. I couldn't imaging it was too much, because they'd only been gone for a total of three days. But then again, who was I to judge. I was only here one day before we'd gotten attacked. Slowly, as I found out, my feelings regarding the entire incident were slowly being washed away. I hoped that soon, it'd be like it never happened.

"I guess that could cause a few problems." He said unwrapping his BK Stacker and taking a rather large bite out of it.

"So are you going to tell me how it went?" I asked.

He nodded, choking down the unchewed bite he'd just taken. _Oh, sorry about that._ I thought.

"No, it's fine. I know you're just as curious as Claire." He said, picking the thought from my mind. I began to wonder whether or not he could hear the two fornicators upstairs. And if so, I felt sorry for him. Just the random screams of passion from Emily were enough to shake me a little. If someone else had been here, it'd sound like a murder.

I unwrapped my own little cheeseburger, and began to peel off the top layer of crust and sesame seed, dropping them to the ground.

I could feel his confused glance on my hands. "It's for the ants." I said. "When they're around, they sometimes gather up seeds from the grass and move them… it's a nature thing." I said, looking up at him. I'd lost him quickly.

"I'm sorry, but I was never too good with science or anything like that. I'm more of a math guy." He said, smiling before taking another bite of his cold hamburger.

I did the same, forgetting about the rest of the crust around my own.

"So?" I asked.

"I'll tell you later. I just want to get over it first." He said simply. Something must've happened that had somehow hurt him; otherwise he'd still be smiling. For the short while that I did know my brother, I'd caught on how wrapped up inside he was. If something bothered him, he didn't interrogate the situation. He didn't get angry like every other wolf I knew. He wasn't one to let something smaller than an act, get to him. Which brought me right back where I started. Something happened.

"You catch on quick." He said, obviously still listening to my thoughts. "I hope you don't mind, but it's easier to tune out the two upstairs when I concentrate on one person."

I felt as though I had a spotlight on me. The feeling that I was the only person to be seen in a pitch black room was thrust upon me like prison chains. I didn't like it.

"Sorry, I'll just switch over too Angela." He said, instantly feeling my discomfort.

"Thanks."

"So are you going to be alright, after what happened?" He said. I wasn't sure whether or not he was in my head earlier when he'd first come home.

"Yeah, Claire helped me through a lot of it." I told him. He seemed to already know this, but it still made him smile. I could already tell he was thinking of her more and more like his long lost mother.

"So why did Derrick and Wilson leave?" I asked changing the subject. "The minute that they heard you were on your way they left. They didn't even say goodbye."

"They don't want to be tied down to me as their Alpha. It's totally understandable thought. They were…" He paused for a second. It was impossible for me to tell what he was thinking in that short instance, and before I could even guess he started back up. "Our fathers pack."

I really wanted to know whether or not he was having trouble accepting that our dad was dead. But he never let on. In that short instance before he mentioned our father, he didn't look sad, just confused at what to call him.

My mother always called him by his name. Either that or, "Your Father." She never let on that she was mad that he didn't know I existed though. She had told me once that I shouldn't be either. It was the first night that I'd seen him. I was only seven, but it was definitely a sight to behold. Someone that even Marcus seemed to fear. That was my dad. And when Michael told me about his other side, I couldn't believe them to be the same person. Forceful, harsh, almost stone-like, the Dane that I'd met was a monster that commanded either respect or fear when he was around. The Dane that my brother knew was the exact opposite. Concerned, caring, regretful, and always willing to help. I didn't think it possible for people to hold those sort of mixed characteristics… not without exploding.

As my mind mulled over the conundrum, I found myself thinking about Claire.

"Why did Claire stay?" I asked. If the other two were trying to avoid my brother's presence, why did she act the exact opposite?

"Claire is a loner. She doesn't like to be around other wolves. She prefers her own hunting ground and for her house to smell like her, not us." He replied quickly. "She doesn't have to worry about alliances and what not. She's more human than wolf, if that makes any sense to you."

I couldn't wrap my mind around it at all. Every werewolf I'd ever met, besides Dane and a few other Alphas were quick to follow Marcus with blind ambitions. They were like bees, and he was their hive.

We walked a little ways until we were back around the house, which had gone suddenly quiet. The banging and screams from upstairs had halted, and for that I was grateful. A break from having to listen to the two upstairs was a good thing. I didn't want to become more traumatized than I already was.

As if on cue of my thoughts, Nick opened the front door. His large body was wearing a towel and a smile, that was it. "Hey, Mike? Can I bum a smoke?" He asked, his left hand grasped the small knot in the towel that held it together, and I had to turn away.

_Doesn't subtlety hold any meaning to these people?_ I asked myself, making Michael laugh.

"Sure." He said leaving my side, digging in his pants pocket as he did.

"Thanks."

"Yeah, just try and keep it quiet alright?" My brother asked, obviously for my sake.

"Sure, whatever."

The door shut, and I was able to look again.

Angela and Claire were completely taken by surprise.

"Did he not see us here?!" Angela asked laughing.

The girls were asleep, Nick was still up, but he was barely conscious as he flipped through the channels on the TV. "Sports. News. News. Crap. Crap." He stated with each station as he hunted down anything to keep him awake.

"Ooh. Home Improvement." He said, giving Michael and I a backwards glance, pointing towards the door. It was fixed. Well, it was a door. A door without a handle that was nailed back in place rather hastily. Whereas Derrick did do a good job on the repairs, it went without saying that we definitely needed a new door.

Michael only laughed as he sipped at a fresh cup of coffee. And then, he seemed to catch his previous thoughts, quite suddenly.

"You have to get started with your schooling." He said, continuing our conversation that we'd started days ago.

I groaned. There was nothing I could learn in school that I was going to use. Well, as far as my teenage mind told me. Once I changed, I'd be predisposed to live off the land. Which was an alluring thought for me. It was the backup plan for every werewolf on earth. If our lives became ruined, we'd go where the peace lay. The forests that stretched across the US were definitely a good enough fail-safe for any werewolf with a brain.

I'd heard that unlike our human form, werewolves don't need to change back to stay sane. We could go the rest of our lives as wolves if we wanted. Though, it wasn't recommended. Because after a long enough period, we'd forget that we were ever human. And after we forgot that, we'd cease to think at all.

"You have to go some time, and if you start soon, you won't have to repeat the year afterwards." He said, trying to coax me with the prospects of half a year.

"I know. But it's going to be full of… people." I complained. I'd never been around more than two or three people. And they were pack spouses. Both male and female. From what I saw, they were jumpy, and a little stupid. But I guess you could just chalk that up to being surrounded by predators.

"They're not that bad." He said. "They're like… fish."

"You lost me."

"They'll swim around you and do their best not to get in your way if you're still enough."

"That's a horrible metaphor." I said, laughing a little at his acknowledgement of it. "Probably the worst I'd ever heard." I added, making him laugh as well.

"Well the fact remains the same. You're going."

"Are you going to make me?" I said, pushing him, and then running away.

He chased me and tackled me into the cool grass. We wrestled and laughed…


	6. Murderer

The cold wind that blew around me felt desolate and angry as I stood at the mansion gates. Their shining silver bars were all that was between me and him. They glinted in the light of a full moon, and almost shined like a spotlight on Nick and I.

Beyond the gate were many on lookers, mostly in wolf form. The cavalcade of color that surrounded the courtyard was a staggering downpour on my ideas of a quick fight. Black, red, white, grey, calico; there were more shades and tones between the three dozen wolves than I could count. And all of their eyes were on us.

I'd decided early on to go in my hunter form, just in case something went wrong and I couldn't change in time. I wanted control over this entire cu de tat. Too bad for Nick though, he was confined to the only form he'd been given. But that didn't make him any less a threat than I. His speed, his stamina; they were unmatched as far as I could tell. The only edge I had over him was the plague, which I'd never use, and the foresight of his attacks.

Amongst the many wolves, were two young men. Too young to have given into the change yet, and I was grateful for that. I really didn't want to have anyone's blood on my hands that I couldn't take. And someone as young as these two boys deserved to live… _Now's not the time to get sensitive!_

"They're here!" I heard one of them yell. He stood only five feet tall. His dirty, blond hair and dilated blue eyes had me thinking he was from German descent, but I couldn't really tell.

The wolves knew we were here. They most likely knew before we'd even come into sight. Not that it changed anything.

Nick lowered himself, debating on whether or not to just jump the fence or tear it down completely. I shoved him a little on the shoulder. _"Respect_." I said. My gravelly voice had finally become stable in my many years of practice. After those three years, I'd learned a lot of useful tips and tricks to my form, but that would have to wait for later.

As the tension between the snarling and growling pack grew, the giant oak doors that hung in the center of the mansion flew open. Marcus stood alone in the doorway as he looked out at us. If I wasn't mistaken, it looked like he had a hard time seeing us. But it must've been a ploy on our confidence. He knew as well as I did that any show of weakness was practically eaten up by our kind.

"Where's Alan?" He asked impatiently. He couldn't have been that stupid.

"At home with the others!" I yelled over the swarm of angry werewolves.

He stepped out of the threshold and closed the doors behind him. His once proud walk was riddled with fury and anger. I watched the way his feet hit the ground like double taps from a drum stick. He wasn't walking like I'd remembered. His entire features were just… wrong somehow.

_Something isn't right._ Nick thought to me, feverishly scratching his sides. He was anxious, more anxious than I'd ever seen him. Actually, he was acting exactly how he did when he and Emily were sharing the same room. They really needed to just give into each other. The sooner, the better.

"I know. Just try and stay calm." I said under my thick breath.

Marcus had pushed and shoved his way through the pack, showing no respect to his pack. This man, who now stood at the front of his army, was not the Marcus I'd met years ago. This man was desperate and quick to anger… _something I might be able to use._

"Well then, why come here?" He asked, stopping twenty feet from the gate. He was making sure to keep his distance. He was being weak, and I was almost positive he was doing it on purpose. There could be no other explanation of why he _could_ be that weak.

"We came here to kill you." I said simply. "Rather, I did."

He took a few steps back, just like prey. He was showing more human by the second.

"And what will that accomplish?" He asked, his voice still held that same angry tone, but there was definitely fear mixed in.

"What did you accomplish when you took the life of Evelyn Grace Davis?" I asked him back. Every fiber of my being wanted to rip away the bars and choke him until he stopped breathing. I started to think back to when I'd killed the phone. _He killed her, and he doesn't care._

"_She_ was conspiring against me! She wanted to ruin my pack! And I wasn't going to let that happen!" He yelled, all of his restraint was gone now.

But before I could yell back, he turned on me. _He turned on me!_

The small notion that was his retreat from our argument sparked an inferno of rage inside of me. And where as I was going to use this trump card much later on, I felt the need for its assistance now.

I placed my hand on Nick's shoulder as he growled at Marcus's back. "Get ready and be safe, alright?"

_Yeah, sure. Just kill that bastard!_

I smiled, at least as best I could.

Turning my gaze back to Marcus, I yelled to him. "I hope you have insurance!"

_Emily, rip the gate down. And get me and Marcus alone._

There was a soft silence between everyone as the ground started too shiver. The fear that had been hinted in Marcus's voice, was now plastered across his face as he tried to keep his balance. The entire pack was lying on their stomachs to keep from falling over as the ground grew more and more unstable. Then came a voice, soft but loud, from the forest. "_Destroy._"

As soon as the words left Emily's lips, thousands of red threads shot up from the ground, glittering in the moonlight like blood on piano wire. Then slammed into the gate. The groaning from its steel bolted doors was instantly halted by their immediate removal. The thin threads fought viciously as they ripped it to shreds and chucked the pieces into the crowd of werewolves.

Most of the more experience pack members were able to dodge them, but the rest weren't so lucky.

Nick tensed and bolted forward, his anticipation was now turned into excitement as he tackled the closest wolf too him, ripping at his unlucky throat and turning on the next.

I myself bolted forward, the thin red lines followed my figure like an air current and as soon as I'd reached Marcus, they exploded around us. I could hear, and feel, the figures that were being pushed away from us as it encircled our forms. This was it…

Within seconds, the threads twisted and thickened, leaving us alone under the red glow of our shining cell. There were no cracks, and no way for anyone to protect either of us. And if things went bad, our glowing cage, would come crashing down on us.

Releasing Marcus, I took a few steps back. I wasn't about to be so pathetic as to not give this man a chance to defend himself.

"What is this?!" He yelled. His eyes shot all around the dim room as he tried to find a way out.

"There's no way out Marcus." I said, but he didn't respond. Instead, he ran all along the walls, touching the soft, stern edges of our cage.

As I watched him try and figure this all out, I couldn't help but ask myself if this even _was_ Marcus. His stature was weak, his fear was self-evident, and his blatant disrespect for his pack was unnerving.

But right when I thought I had him all figured out, he started laughing.

"You had this all planned out, didn't you?" He asked, chuckling in his temporary insanity. He turned around and his eyes were fire red. "But you missed one important detail." He said, clapping his hands together in excitement. As he rubbed them together, sparks of flame shot out from their small openings.

I cocked my eyebrow, and crossed my hands. "You're not Marcus, are you?"

His smile grew thick and wide. I half-expected his cheeks to split open at the pressure that he'd put on them. He was ecstatic, and even more so, erratic.

Fire shot out wider and wider from his enclosed hands as he gasped in his laughter.

"It's funny how blindly they'll follow me. Even after I killed their beloved Alpha." He said. His hands separated and the flames went out. "Shall I show you my true form?" He asked.

There was no question about it now. This wasn't Marcus. This man, who'd condemned a woman to death for her son's power, was not my grandfather. This man was much more sinister, and much sicker. This man killed without regret, and almost seemed to enjoy his prospects of killing again.

When I didn't answer, he decided to start anyway.

His face shifted first. His nose grew thicker, but shrunk in size. His hair sparked for a second, and turned from black to blond and grey. It frayed slightly in the middle now but grew longer and thinner. His body was becoming slimmer as his muscles impacted around themselves. And his tall body, had shrunk almost five inches.

The man who'd once stood before me was gone. And all that was left was the sound of my growling rage… and Seymour.


	7. Scythe

Seymour. The very name sparked such rage under the surface of my skin that I couldn't help but growl at just the thought. A name of a murder and a sadist. He used his daughter to try and get a new life. Almost killed her! Then he shows up years later to kill my father. And now this!? How I garnered the patience to keep from ripping him to shreds on the spot is a mystery even too me.

"Marcus said you were dead!" I yelled at him.

"Of course he did." He said gleefully. "Being caged up two stories under a mansion filled with his werewolf servants _would _spark that feeling inside him."

My muscles were spasming under my thick skin as I fought for control. Thoughts of pushing his eyes into their sockets and pulling apart his skull flaunted themselves around my head.

"I'll never forget that bastard!" He said, changing his tone to malice. "He ripped my fingernails from my fingers. Broke my jaw twice, and every night came back for more after I'd recovered. But he forgot the company he kept." He said, smiling again. "He forgot how sadistic his lap dog Diego was. It was all too easy to get him to let me loose. And we killed him together."

"Diego." I growled. The wolf that had jumped at me when I was protecting Emily. _I should've killed him on the spot!_

"As a matter of fact, he should be at your home right now fetching Alan for me." He said thoughtfully.

"The people you've sent are dead, Seymour."

"A minor hiccup, I suppose." He didn't give a damn about those two dead souls. And all the while, Alan was wrought with pain for protecting the others…

I moved forward quickly and dove for him.

He didn't miss a single step as he moved to the side and slammed his fist into the back of my head. Fire burned from his touch and singed the fur that had once protected me from the cold.

"Tisk tisk." He said, delivering a kick to my side.

I flew against the wall of our red glowing cage.

"Patience patience." He said. "I have a good story and I will have it told. Because you deserve to hear it."

I stood up fast, expecting another attack, but it didn't come. He was standing twenty feet away from me as I recuperated, rubbing the back of my head. It didn't hurt nearly as bad as I thought it had. His attack was weak in what it did to me, but still… it was enough force to push me into a wall.

"When you left me to die back in Grand Isle, I was so angry with you… but I quickly got over it. And I came up with a fairly brilliant plan, if I do say so myself." His smile was definitely getting under my skin and his enthusiasm was eating away at me. "With all of the sheets and blankets you stirred in during our nights at the camp, I had enough lure to catch myself a werewolf."

"You didn't." I whispered through clenched teeth.

"I stopped through seven cities before I finally got a bite. And she was a definite beauty. Too bad she couldn't smell me from three buildings away. She might've been able to run away before I sniped her off of the local hotel room I was staying at."

He killed, and he didn't care.

"And after choking down pint after pint of her blood, I finally felt the cancer that once hindered me, die away."

"You abandoned your daughter? And killed someone else's?" My words couldn't hold any more disgust.

"It was all for my greater good, Michael." I hated his mentioning of my name. "And once I had my first change, I went demon searching."

"My first demon was a small Indonesian boy, who had the great talent of being able to change his appearance. And I figured that if I could drink the blood of a werewolf, what was stopping me from doing the same for a little added measure? And when I ate him, I found it easier to change from man to wolf. And even easier to change from person to person."

I grimaced at the thought of eaten for someone else's gain. It was all too sickening.

"And after that, my little world opened up to me. It gave me people who could conjure fire, and people who could track others with certain abilities. That's how I found your father."

I was much faster on my attack than last time. And when he side stepped me, I brought out my right leg and kicked his from under him.

He slammed against the ground, and as I reared up on him, a strange wave of force pushed me away.

"I'd keep my distance if I were you, Michael." He said, keeping me at bay with his little force field. I felt cheated from this parlor trick. And that's when it dawned on me. _This is why his attacks are weak but forceful._

"That power that your dad held was amazing. Though, it came with a terrible price." His face grimaced again. "The pain; the nightmares; they were truly my greatest hurdle. But I pulled through it, and when I did, I was face down in a concrete cell with your grandfather kicking me in the face." He was smiling at the memory now. His sick twisted mind was bringing him comfort in the fact that he'd gotten his revenge against Marcus.

"And then that bitch Evelyn found me out and sent my greatest trophy over too you." He said spitting towards me. "And now you're here. So what's it going to be, Michael?" He said, crossing his arms.

An idea hit me as we stared into each other's eyes.

"So what happened to your daughter?" I asked.

"What daughter?" He asked. It was as if he didn't even acknowledge her anymore. And under that pretense, our walls began to shake. It was a small tremor at first, but it was enough to know that she was listening.

"The daughter that left your camp to come live in my pack." I said, smiling.

His anger surfaced suddenly as he registered what I'd said. He stormed up to me, and as I reared for the attack, he pushed me up against the red walls with his mind. The soft red walls contoured to my body as he tried to smash me into them. The force was pathetic.

"What have you done to my daughter?!" He yelled.

"Marcus changed her." I said, laughing. My body began its change back to normal, and soon I was relaxing comfortably against the soft tissue-like walls of the cage.

I watched as his gaze went from my eyes to my body. I was covered in transcript, courtesy of my loving mate. She'd spent over an hour preparing Nick and I for war, and when he saw it, he backed away. The slices in my skin were etched across my every surface, and as he pulled away from me, they glowed.

"How is it you can push me with your mind, Seymour." I said maliciously. I scanned his mind for the answer and when I had it, I slammed it into him with all of my being. Its distorted figure smashed against his chest like a cannonball and he flew across our arena.

"Did she do that?!" He yelled, gasping for air as he tried to stand.

I nodded, instantly lying.

"She couldn't have! That useless cunt could barely control a regular person when we'd split apart!" He yelled, making the cage rattle. Sharp spines were starting to protrude from the walls and they were all aiming towards Seymour. This was my chance.

I raced right into his winded figure and pulled him up to his feet. "But she can now! And she can hear every word you spit towards her! So why don't you tell _HER_ why you left her alone at that camp six years ago?!" I was yelling right into his fearful face.

The cage started to recede and aim itself at the two of us as I held him. Their dark red fibers were being drawn right over us as he shook in my grip and fought my hands for release.

"Now would be a good time to beg." I said coldly as I shoved him back.

The threads had become a tidal wave of knives and daggers as they hung above him, waiting silently for his reply.

He was cowered over in fear; his chest was almost touching his knees as everyone watched. This man, this fraud who they'd been following for the past three years was now in the open, and no one was fighting anymore. There was a deep silence between the pack, between everyone.

"Emily… I-"

They crashed down upon him. Their force pushed through the dirt that he once stood on, and decimated the land around their impact. There is no other way I could convey the force of their attack, other than saying that it automatically put him six feet under, and tore him asunder… Seymour… was dead.


	8. The Road Back Home

I slept soundly as the hum of the engine soothed my sore body. The many small wounds made from Angela's transcripts were finally starting to heal, and with her there to hold me as I slept, only made things better. All of her worry and fear for Nick and I that I'd felt before our conflict was dead and gone. Replaced by the serenity and peace of mind of knowing that we were finally safe.

Nick's wounds were doing the same as he slept in the passenger seat, leaving Emily to drive. She was still changed. I'd asked her to try and keep it going for as long as possible. Hopefully she'd be able to keep it up until we made it home… I wasn't taking any chances.

On the ride up, I slept one out of the twenty five hours it took to make it to Canada. And twelve of those hours I was driving. And now, as I slept quietly against Angela's soft body, I finally had my peace.

And when I'd finally awoken, I was greeted with a passing sign that said, "Keep Right for Baton Rouge". I'd never slept more than ten hours, so when I'd realized I'd spent almost the entire trip sleeping; I chalked it up as a definite personal record.

"How close are we to the house?" I asked Emily.

She was the only one awake. The other two must've fallen asleep recently, because Angela was still fidgeting against the door she sat at, and Nick was twitching a little in his sleep. But I soon found out that it wasn't because he'd just fallen asleep, but because Emily was keeping herself entertained by letting her hair run loose in the car. They were all softly grazing Nick's skin, making his muscles spasm slightly.

"Oh, that's mean." I whispered to her, making her smile through the rear-view mirror.

"It helps me stay awake." She said, turning her gaze back onto the road. Still the red lines hung over him, tapping his nose and poking at his cheeks. She was having fun.

"How far do we have until we're at the house?" I asked again.

"About thirty minutes, why?" Her red eyes were shooting from the road and into mine from the mirror. _He better not have to use the bathroom! Twenty four hours of sleep and he waits until now to wake up!_

"Whoa! Calm down, I'm just anxious to get something to eat." I said smiling and holding my hands up in defense. I did, however, have to use the bathroom, but I wasn't about to tell her that. I could hold it until we got home.

"Sorry. I'm just tired." She said, rubbing her eyes.

"Well, pull over and I'll take over." I said looking for my clothes. I was still naked, but not too worried about being seen through the tinted windows in Claire's car. I was more than protected from the outside world in this vehicle.

Without any warning, she did. The wheels squealed in protest at first, but eventually we gained back our traction and straightened out evenly along the empty interstate. I was so glad there wasn't a cop around.

Grabbing my shirt and blue jeans, I opened the door and hid myself with both as Emily passed me, laughing at my modesty. I ignored her as I rounded the car and made my way into the woods to go change.

"Where are you going?" She asked. I knew that she knew what I was going to do… but I wasn't about to let her have the satisfaction of being right.

"Put on my clothes!" I yelled back at her as I entered the forest. There wasn't much to this place. The ground was without foliage, but the trees were thriving. It looked like the place where I'd fought Emily. A dangerous memory to have.

As I slipped my shirt over my head and rolled down the curled up edges of my sleeves, I heard the opening and closing of a car door.

And within seconds, the beautiful figure of my Angela came tauntingly towards me….

Forty minutes later…

"Where the hell have you been?!" Emily yelled as we neared the car, both of us tried to stifle a smile. "Really?" She complained.

It took me twenty minutes to speed all of the way home. I found that after two, the cops in Louisiana just seem to disappear, leaving the streets to the motorists. I pushed the Nissan Sentra well past ninety as I sped into familiar territory. The long, winding road that led off into our home was in sight. _We'd probably be there by now if Emily hadn't asked for Burger King!_ I complained to myself as I sped up to our final destination.

The speedometer was slowly inching its way to one-twenty as turned into the opposite lane for more room to play in as we passed the first few bends in the road. How Nick stayed asleep through all of this, I'll never now, but as soon as we passed the third bend, as soft thread found its way under my seat and yanked my foot off the gas.

"I'd like to make it home alive, Michael. If you don't mind." That polite Georgian accent was strange to hear after a while. It was almost contradicting itself with every syllable. It was like listening to a southern accent try to speak with a British dialect. It wasn't something you get use to easily.

"Fine." I said, feeling the thread unwrap itself around my leg. I pumped the breaks and slowed back down to fifty-five as we finally came up into our driveway.

I was so excited to finally be home! Every inch of my skin was crawling for the warm Louisiana air to take hold of me and guide me into my house. My safe haven.

As soon as the car was stopped, everyone was out, even Nick, who at the time was trying his best not to collapse under his tired exterior. But all of that halted as soon as Emily walked around to him and pinned him up against the car. She kissed him harder than I'd ever seen before… not that I watched them. But it was definitely a change from the peck on the lips they'd rationed themselves out on.

Angela punched my arm after she opened up the trunk. "Are you going to help?" She asked, smiling at the two lovers who still hadn't let go of themselves.

"Yeah. I just wish little miss hot-stuff over there would grab her Burger King." I said loud enough for her to hear me. And when she did, she let go of Nick, grabbed her food angrily, and stomped away towards the house, Nick was hot on her trail.

"It's about damn time." I said to Angela, who I'd noticed didn't grab a single bag. When I looked at her puzzled, she just cocked her head, "What?" She asked innocently.

As she walked away, after closing the trunk, I stood there. I held the luggage under both my arms and with both of my hands. "Oh, that's mean." I called out after her, quickly catching up.

After the first three dispersed, all that was left in my way to comfort… was my brother.

Call me childish, but as I stared at him, I felt guilty. When Claire had first told me what had happened, I had envisioned him to be a monster. Just like Emily, he had succumbed to the immense power that burned harshly inside of him, and just the same, his innocence was shattered. The pain that he felt when he tried to look up into my eyes hurt even me. His cautious choice of words that lingered on the edge of his lips were chaos in a bottle to his soul. And as he opened his mouth to speak, I ran up to him, and wrapped my arms around him tightly in a hug.

"I'm so proud of you." I whispered to him. My brother wasn't a monster. He was a scared child who'd lost his mother in the worst of ways. The pain that we both shared seemed to bring us together in that moment. And I prayed that he'd forgive me for the mistakes that I'd brought onto his life. "And I'm glad you're safe."


End file.
